


to mundane happiness

by sayomiya



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayomiya/pseuds/sayomiya
Summary: There's nothing complicated in this friendship of theirs. They're just friends, nothing more, nothing less- and in a school so far away from being normal, it's something they'll treasure forever.(The 3A trio and a look into the type of relationship they've had over their three years at Yumenosaki.)





	to mundane happiness

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! i graduated secondary school yesterday, so i thought it would be fitting to write something like this :")) the 3A trio is probably one of my favourite groups in enstars, so this is something that's really special to me!

They meet sometime in their first year.

 

It was because they were classmates then, Kaoru thinks, but it all happened too long ago for him to remember the exact details—well, it’s not like it matters much.

 

It all happens in a more mundane way than one would expect from students of Yumenosaki. Not everything has to happen in a dramatic flash, and not everything has to have wondrous tales and mountains of stories behind it.

 

Kaoru doesn’t pay much attention at first. Of course his attention would be somewhere else; he’s too busy thinking of other things, like how he can get away with skipping yet another class or how he can wind up home as late as possible.

 

Why would he take the time to look at two people who don’t hold any real importance in his life?

 

That’s how he’s lived all this time, after all. To not poke his nose in affairs that didn’t concern him, to look on blankly as he watched others suffer before his eyes—really, if he’s to be honest, he doesn’t care.   


 

And it’s okay. It  _was_ okay.

 

They start talking when they get grouped together on a project.

 

Kaoru doesn’t like group projects much. It’s a mixed bag most of the time—either he gets lumped together with people who’ll drag down his grades a little too much for his liking, or he’s stuck with absolute sticklers that force him into doing work.

 

But he finds that his two partners aren’t  _that_ bad. Chiaki, while quiet, does his work for the most part.Izumi has a harsh tongue, one that leaves an acidic taste at the end of each sentence, but he’s smart and gets good grades—and in group projects, that’s all that matters.

 

Izumi splits the work, leaving him with no room to argue, and he grudgingly finishes up his part of the job. They work in awkward but efficient silence most of the time, but Kaoru finds that it isn’t so bad.

 

He tries to start some idle conversation whenever he gets tired of working. Chiaki’s more than happy to jump on the same topic, but more often that not, Izumi notices that he’s just trying to slack and snaps at him to focus.

 

Kaoru learns about their units and their clubs, information that he’ll probably forget in a day or two, but—he doesn’t.

 

They do well on the project, and that’s about all they’ll do together for their first year.

 

—

 

When second year rolls around, they don’t have the time to  _breathe,_ let alone talk.

 

Perhaps that is Eichi’s intention, to weed the school of such a relaxing atmosphere—to force units into having to put their all in whatever they do.

 

His old unit is a mess. They’ve split up and rebranded themselves over and over again, and now they have been reduced to nothing. Their king is gone in more ways than one, and he can’t find it in himself to piece everything back together by himself.

 

Izumi is tired. Of everything, really.

 

What can he do now? Does he wait for his king to come back; wait for everything to right itself again—for the world to start turning once more?

 

Knights is little more but a hollow, patchwork shell, made of ragtag members who are all struggling just as much as he is. And yet—as their new makeshift leader, as the  _senpai_ of them all, he has to get himself together and lead them to a new age.

 

It’s all he can do when Leo isn’t around anymore.

 

He finds it hard to even breathe anymore—not when the air burns at his lungs like acid, and when the ground below his feet seems to be made of glass. All he can do is tread onwards, eyes stinging, on the willpower of a long-forgotten promise.

 

(Maybe the promise had been shattered along with the floor a long, long time ago. He’d never know.)

 

No matter what he does, Leo isn’t coming back. The past isn’t going to come back, and he’d just treated all those simple, insignificant memories like they were a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of his shoe.

 

And no amount of regretting will bring those days back.

 

Their third year is coming up. All too soon, he’ll be graduating from this bloodied wasteland, and now, as he looks at what he sees when he gazes into Ritsu’s and Arashi’s eyes—

 

—he doesn’t know if he should be relieved or not.

 

Izumi’s broken out of his trance by a tap on his shoulder, and he turns behind to find Chiaki glancing at him.

 

“Are you alright, Sena? You looked like you were spacing out a little just now.” Chiaki’s tone is soft; he looks concerned, as far as he can tell. Izumi doesn’t really know him besides the project they’d done last year and the little conversations they have in class, so he doesn’t know  _why_ his classmate would notice these things.

 

They’ve never talked about anything meaningful. They talk—well, just to talk, and sometimes Kaoru joins in as well, but for some reason—

 

—it feels good.

 

Why does every small thing have to have a point to it? Can’t two people talk for the sake of talking, for the sake of passing the time? Isn’t it  _enough_ to exchange words and laugh at smile at the most useless things they’ve experienced in the day?

 

Talking with Chiaki and Kaoru doesn’t feel bad at all. It feels like something has been lifted from his shoulders, like their idle conversations help him take his mind off everything happening outside.

 

If he had to pick a word to describe it, it’s  _normal._

 

Everything they do as classmates is so painfully normal it’s almost refreshing, like the smoke in the air has given way to a pleasant blast of cold air.

 

In times like this, he can remember he’s just a normal high school student too.

 

—

 

“We should go out and watch a movie sometime,” Chiaki suggests, eyes glittering as he turns to face his two classmates.

 

Izumi rolls his eyes, and Kaoru’s already raising a hand to reject the offer. The Ryuseitai member just laughs in return—he already knew the two of them would have that kind of response, but it’s still fun to ask them about these sort of things.

 

“Yeah, I’ll watch that movie if it’s horror,” Izumi snorts, and he sees Kaoru hide a laugh with his hand.

 

“Hey! That’s not nice, Sena!” he protests, waving his hands in the air as he talks. “But if you really want to see a horror movie—I, Chiaki Morisawa, will try my best! Yes!”

 

Kaoru raises an eyebrow from beside them, not even glancing up from his phone. “You’ll just freak out the entire time. Besides, isn’t Ryuseitai busy preparing for the Repayment Festival? You’re the type that usually goes gaga over looking after them.”

 

“Ah…” Chiaki laughs once again. “We’re graduating soon, so I thought it would be good if I kept my hands off this time.”

 

He  _knows_ Izumi and Kaoru can tell that he’s not telling them everything. They’re uncannily perceptive, after all—there’s no way they wouldn’t know.

 

But he sighs in relief as Izumi turns his gaze away and doesn’t press further, and Kaoru just gives him a shrug. He knows that Kaoru talks with Kanata a lot, so maybe he already knew…? Either way, he’s grateful that they’re tactful enough not to talk.

 

They’re not the kind of friends that would listen to each other’s sob stories and offer comforting words of advice, and they never will be. When it comes down to it, they’re only classmates that know each other because they’re in the same class.

 

That doesn’t mean they don’t  _care,_ though.

 

“Huh. Good luck with that.” Izumi’s inspecting his hands as he speaks, but there’s a thoughtful hue to his tone. “Actually, I don’t really have anything on today. What about you, Kao-kun?”

 

“Ah, I’m free too.” Kaoru slides off the table he’s been perched on, and he shoots Chiaki a curious glance. “You really wanted to watch a movie, don’t you? Hurry up before I change my mind and go on a date with a cute girl instead.”

 

Chiaki looks back at him, and then at Izumi, and then at Kaoru again. He then pumps his fists in the air, cheering with a voice loud enough for half the class to hear, but his friends don’t say anything.

 

They won’t show their concern outright—it would just be awkward—but taking a breather and strolling around like normal students would make the world stop for just a moment.

 

He grins and tugs at their hands.

 

“Let’s go, then!”

 

—

 

Outside of their unit members, outside of idols, outside of the war—they’re still friends.

 

They’re just friends, with no expectations or complications attached to them. They just hang out sometimes and talk to each other—they just do all the things regular friends would do.

 

In a school where they are seen as idols, it’s easy to forget that at their core, they’re really just children.

 

There’s something charming in the nature of a mundane, everyday life. Their classroom is a protective bubble, outside of all the worries and trouble they may face elsewhere, and a place where they can talk and laugh without a care in the world.

 

Even if they walk different paths after graduating—does it  _matter?_ They’ve never been on the same path to begin with, so would there be a difference?

 

They’re friends not because of idols, or because of anything complicated. They’re friends because they just  _are._

 

It may have been painful. No one can just gloss over everything that had happened over the past three years—but the simple happiness that they found in their classroom memories is something that will stick with them for the rest of their lives.

 

And, as trivial as it may be, it’s something important; something dear to them.

 

It’s something they’ll keep in their hearts forever.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! you can find me @ ikanyaide on twitter c: i hope you enjoyed!!


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